One Short Day
by ThexInvisiblexGirl
Summary: ...and then there was that time that he walked up to this group of tourists. One short day in the Alphabet City. Mark's POV. Please R&R!


**A/N- the following fic is dedicated to Fae, whose help in writing this was absolutely incredible. Thank you _so much_- there was _no_ oneshot without you! **

**Disclaimer- The characters are Jonathan Larson's, the title is from Wicked. Absolutely not mine :)**

**General details and timeline**- movie based, because it refers to small stuff that appear in the movie, including the way the loft looks like and such. This takes place in the summer of 1990, between Mo and Jo's engagement party and Angel's death, yet it is set before Mimi's actual withdrawal as presented in Without You. It means that couple-wise, it's Maureen/Joanne (because I figured that even though they were not together in Angel's funeral, it couldn't be the same fight from their engagement party simply because it happened a long time before that. They probably had some more ups and downs along the way,) Collins/Angel, and I'd say Roger/Mimi, but they're kind of on and off because of that thing with Benny. Oh yeah, and Mark, but since he's here alone (well duh) I think the author will get him for herself :)

**Enjoy! Reviews are most welcome!**

**T.M**

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* * *

One Short Day **

Mark and Roger were out on the fire escape, desperately finding a way to keep themselves cool. Roger was fanning himself with an old copy of the Village Voice, and Mark was leaning against the railing, trying to find an angle in which he could feel the slightest breeze that blew every now and again. It was humid, it was disgusting, and to top it all of, it was boring as hell. He didn't even feel like filming anything. He couldn't remember a hotter August than that. Of course, he said it the year before, and he knew he'd probably say it the following year as well, but for the moment, he didn't care. Maybe next year they'd be able to afford an air conditioner. That is, as long as Mark could keep his job at Buzzline, Roger pointed out, making his friend grumble in misery. He hated his job.

"Man, what I would give for a pool in our back yard," sighed Roger, rolling up the sleeves of his T-shirt as far as they could go.

"Yes, perhaps we can place it next to our imaginary flowerbed," said Mark, rolling his eyes.

Roger paused and gave him a look, then said, "I hear they're blooming well."

Mark smirked and looked down at the street, where two people suddenly appeared from the corner. He smiled as he recognized them. "Oh, hey, there's Angel and Collins."

And indeed, Angel and Collins were approaching their building. They looked so colorful together. Angel was clad in one of her smashing attires- a striped lilac and pink dress, a matching purse and a huge hat that looked like something Audrey Hepburn once wore in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Yet he was pretty sure Audrey Hepburn's hat never had a purple ribbon tied around it, dancing in the wind. He smiled to himself. Angel had such an unbelievable, unique style. Not just in clothing. In the short time they knew one another, she helped him so much in his work, giving him tips and advices about scenery and art. He learned so much from her. Once he asked her how she knew so much. At first he was afraid she would be hurt or offended or something, but Angel just shrugged and smiled her smile and said it came naturally. Well, how could he argue with that? All that was left for him to do was admire her for it. His gaze wandered over to Collins, who was wearing worn out jeans along with one of his strange Hawaiian shirts, his "I'm not teaching today because it's finally summer break" shirts. It was definitely the weirdest Mark had ever witnessed; green palm trees on an orange background of beach and sunset.

"Hey Collins!" called Mark towards the couple. Collins raised his head, a smile forming on his face. "Love your new shirt! It makes you look gay!"

He couldn't really tell from up there, but it looked like Collins was rolling his eyes at his remark. "Since when do I get fashion tips from you, Mr. 'I'm too sexy for my black and white scarf'?" He laughed at his own joke. "Throw down the key, camera boy!"

"Hold on!" Mark hurried into the loft, snatched the key from the coffee table and threw it down. Angel caught it expertly.

"Nice catch, Angel!" laughed Roger, leaning on the railing to have a better look at them. Angel smiled and blew him a kiss before she and Collins disappeared in the building. He smiled and walked back into the loft. Mark stayed out for a moment, just gazing at the roofs of the buildings around them. Then he left the fire escape reluctantly to join Roger inside their loft, where the heat became unbearable with each passing minute. Roger was leaning against the open door of their old refrigerator. Well, not leaning, exactly.

"Roger?" Mark asked slowly. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" Roger asked, without looking back.

Maybe it was not what it looked like. "Why are you hugging our refrigerator?"

"I need to feel it."

HUH? "What?"

"I need to feel its coldness." Mark just looked at him strangely, but he didn't have a chance to say more when the door slid open, and Angel and Collins stepped into the loft.

"Good morning, bitches!" said Collins smiling, holding their key between his teeth. His gaze wandered from Roger to Mark, then did a double take as he realized what Roger was doing. He gave Mark a questioning look.

"Don't ask," said Mark, shaking his head, and took back their key.

"What? It's so damn hot in here," grumbled Roger, closing the refrigerator's door.

"You _really_ need to get out more," said Collins. "And shave."

"Oh, give it a rest, the boy just had a bad day!" said Angel, walking towards Roger. "Besides…" She touched his cheek gently and shot him a seductive look. "El chico es guapo cuando esta sin afeitar." Roger's eyes grew wide, not so much because of that look she gave him, but mostly because he had no idea what she had just said. Angel giggled when she noticed his expression, and slapped his cheek jokingly. "Just kidding, honey!" Roger seemed calmer to hear it, but then Angel turned to Mark and Collins, winking. "No, I'm not," she mouthed. Collins burst out laughing, and Roger gave him a weird look.

Mark smiled. "So what are you two doing here?"

"We came to pick you up. Grab your stuff, let's go!" said Angel excitedly, finally letting go of Roger and wrapping an arm around Collins' waist. He was finally able to control his laughter.

"Where are you going?" asked Roger, slumping on their shabby couch. He had that tone, Mark thought with a frown. He knew Roger would do everything he could to stay behind.

Angel seemed to have noticed it too, for she gave Roger one look and stated, "_We_ are going to meet Mo and Jo for ice-cream."

"_We_ as in the four of us," seconded Collins, walking towards Roger and pulling him back onto his feet. "Don't you even think about staying here alone. Man, it's like hell in here!"

Mark chuckled. "I'll just get my camera," he said, walking to his bedroom to retrieve his camera. He tried to push aside this feeling he got when Angel mentioned the name of his infamous ex-girlfriend… and her current girlfriend. He didn't really care. No matter what Collins and Roger said. He was _so_ over her.

Soon he joined his friends, and they left the loft and started going down the stairs, passing Mimi's door. "Hey, shouldn't we ask Mimi to join us?" asked Roger in what he probably believed was his most casual I-don't-give-a-damn tone. They had their ups and downs lately, thanks to Benny and his manipulations, and even though they weren't really talking at the moment, it was clear that Roger still cared. Why he tried to hide it was beyond Mark, since it was just as clear that Mimi still cared too. Mark threw Collins a know-all look, rolling his eyes. And they dared calling _him_ pathetic.

"No, Mimi had a double shift last night so she's asleep," explained Angel.

"Oh," said Roger, looking as if someone had just punched him.

"The rock star is disappointed, I believe," said Collins in that teasing tone Mark came to know and hate so much. He was kind of glad that this time he was not the target of it.

Roger shot him a warning glare. "Shut up, Thomas."

Collins rolled his eyes. "You two are so pathetic. I can see your lame ending already. You'll either marry each other, or Mark will marry his right hand and Roger will end up having a secret affair with the refrigerator."

"Now, now, honey, no need to bug them about it. They'll be okay," said Angel, wrapping one arm around Mark and the other one around Roger, as they left the building.

They started walking down the street, to what Mark assumed was the place they were supposed to meet the girls. A couple of feet away was Maureen, wearing a black tank top and a tiny, purple mini skirt that made even Roger snap out of his numb state of mind for a couple of seconds.

"There you guys are!" she cried out as she spotted them, and hurried towards them as fast as she could on her high heels. She gave Angel a big hug, giggling about both choosing to wear purple. Then she turned to hug Collins, and Mark tried to look away from her, or at least not to stare at the way her skirt was becoming even shorter as she stretched up to wrap her arms around Collins' neck-

Someone nudged his side. He blinked and realized that Angel was talking to him. "You okay, honey?" she asked, slight concern clouding her cheerful expression for a moment.

He gave her an unfocused look. "I'm afraid so," he said weakly.

"He's okay," said Roger dryly, back to his apathetic self. "He just jumped over the moon for a second." Angel giggled, obviously getting his hint, just as Maureen let go of Collins and turned to look at Roger.

"Honey! You're singing my song!" she squealed happily, clearly unaware of the reason he was quoting her protest lyrics.

"Where's Joanne? I thought she promised to pay for the ice-cream," said Angel.

Maureen frowned, sliding her sunglasses up her head. "She had to go back to her office."

"On her day off?" asked Collins incredulously.

Maureen shrugged. "It was an emergency. She might join us later. Come on, I know this great place where we can get the most incredible ice-cream for free!" she said urgently, pulling at Collins' arm like a five-year-old.

Mark frowned. He knew the place well. The reason they always got free ice cream was because Maureen was always flirting with the guy who worked there. He and Roger walked couple of steps behind Maureen, Collins and Angel, and since Roger wasn't much into conversation (well, was he ever?) Mark took his camera out of his bag. He could finally afford some new film, so he figured he'd better do something about it.

"August 16th, 1990, 11:30AM, Eastern Standard Time. On what seems to be the hottest day in the year-"

"Amen!" commented Collins without looking back.

Mark rolled his eyes and continued. "We're out on the street, having one short day in the Alphabet City, on our way to get some ice-cream-"

"-The best ice-cream!" Maureen cut him off, turning around. She blew a kiss to the camera and flashed him a flirtatious smile.

"The best ice-cream," he repeated obediently, melting at her smile in spite of himself.

"Sucker," muttered Roger, nudging his friend's elbow.

He shot Roger a look. "Shut up, Roger." In an attempt to push aside this sudden weakness in his knees- that had _nothing_ to do with the fact that Maureen was walking there three steps ahead of him with those clothes that were clinging to her like second skin- he panned around the street. He would simply not think about it. He wouldn't think about the heat and summer time, about skin becoming bearer as cleavages grow bigger and skirts become shorter, about-

"Mark!" Roger hissed, snapping him out of his reverie. "What are you doing?"

"Why do you ass- I mean, _ask_!" Mark stammered. He could feel the blush creeping on his face. Oh shit. "I didn't do anything, I was just filming!"

"You were filming her ass!" whispered Roger, nodding towards Maureen.

Mark opened his mouth to respond. "You were filming whose ass?" Wait a second, that wasn't his voice. A bit confused, he raised his head and realized to his horror that Roger's whisper was loud enough for the rest to hear it. Angel, Collins and Maureen had stopped walking. They were now facing them, and Maureen was looking at him expectedly, waiting for an answer. A smile was curling on her lips as if she knew the answer.

Mark shot Roger a look. He just shrugged. Well, not that he expected any better. Nice job, Davis, he thought bitterly. "I… I was just-" he stammered, desperately trying to improvise an excuse.

"Mine!" said Angel, smiling brilliantly and wrapping one arm around his shoulder. They all looked at her dumbfounded, waiting for a reasonable explanation. "Mark asked to take my pictures couple of days ago. I guess he was just practicing now, weren't you, honey?" she asked, looking at him encouragingly. He didn't trust himself to speak without stuttering, so he just nodded weakly.

"Is that so?" asked Collins slowly as they resumed their walk. It was clear that he didn't buy it.

"Y-yeah."

"What, don't you think I'll be a great model? Naomi Cambell, Linda Evangelista- they ain't got nothin' on me," she said as she made her way to a street lamp nearby. She hugged it with one arm, her other arm holding out her hat, striking a pose. They all laughed as she joined them again, and they kept walking.

"Of course you will be a great model, baby. It's the filmmaker I'm worried about," said Collins, giving Mark a look.

"Nah, I'll make sure he won't do anything silly!" said Angel. She stayed behind, her arm still wrapped around Mark, as Collins and Maureen continued their conversation.

"Nice save, Angel," muttered Roger, as if making sure they wouldn't hear him this time.

"Olvidarlo, honey, any time!"

Roger gave her a dumbfounded look, obviously not getting it. Mark rolled his eyes. Even _he_ was able to understand some Spanish after spending so much time with Angel and Mimi.

"Hey, you guys, check this out!" said Collins all of a sudden, as he and Maureen stopped in their tracks.

Mark zoomed in to where Collins was pointing. There, at the other side of the street, was a dozen or so group of people. It was pretty clear they were tourists, if not from the maps and cameras they held and their "I Love NY" T-shirts, than from the simple fact they all looked like Liang, that Asian guy who delivered Chinese whenever they could afford it. By their somewhat terrified expression, it was pretty obvious that they were lost. At the exact same moment, one of them seemed to have spotted Angel on the other side of the street. He said something to the rest of the group and they all turned to look at her, their eyes wide with amazement.

"Do you think this dress is too showy?" asked Angel lightly, waving in their direction. Trust Angel never to take those looks seriously, thought Mark. People stared at her like that all the time. Sure, it was New York City, but most people weren't used to see a drag queen on a regular basis.

Maureen, on the other hand, was furious. "Who the hell do they think they are?" she asked, obviously offended for Angel, and turned to face the group. "Hey! Do you wanna take a pi-" But before she had a chance to finish, they all raised their cameras in perfect unison and started taking a picture after picture after picture in a deadly pace. Nothing seemed to stop them, except maybe running out of film. Like the rest of them, Maureen stared at them in amazement, then turned to look at the camera. "I was kidding!" she said, raising her arms.

"Oh man!" laughed Roger after couple of seconds of non-stop flashing. "They are even worse than Mark!" Then he suddenly turned to look strangely at Mark. "Mark, you weren't by chance Asian in a former life, were you?"

Mark returned his look. He shook his head. "Yes, Roger, I was Genghis Khan in a former life."

Collins burst out laughing. "I can totally see that happens!"

"Hey, guys?" Maureen cut them off irritably. "You're missing the point. How can we stop it?" she asked, nodding towards the group that was still taking pictures.

Angel looked at the group thoughtfully. "We can't. We go with it." And before they knew it, she crossed the street and was immediately surrounded by the group. They were talking to one another excitedly. Angel waved at them before she flashed the group a brilliant smile, and started striking pose after pose, like a Vogue model.

Mark stared at her in amazement through his camera. He couldn't believe what was happening, yet at the same time, he could. It was so Angel. He thought about what she just told them. _We go with it_. Okay, if she said so. Here goes, he thought as he started narrating. "Well, an unusual sight here in the heart of the Alphabet City. Goddess of Fashion Angel Dumott Schunard had just arrived at the scene, looking as great as ever, and once again, causing a commotion. Here, on a special report for Buzzline, our fashion experts Maureen Johnson and Tom Collins."

Collins smiled, getting the hint. "Thank you Mark, indeed an unusual sight," he started, as Mark zoomed in on the happenings across the street. Those guys never run out of film, he thought with growing admiration. They didn't stop for a second! But Angel seemed to enjoy the attention. She caught them looking and waved at them again, blowing a kiss towards the camera.

"-As I was saying, Angel looks spectacular in a summer dress by her own design. This, by no doubt, is her best outfit yet, don't you agree, Maureen?"

"Why yes Collins, as someone used to say- the shabby tablecloths of the past are the stunning dresses of the future, and it definitely seems like pink and purple are going to be the dominant colors of the next season! As always, Angel does a fantastic job, leading a new fashion revolution!"

They crossed the street as they were talking, and met Angel halfway as she made her way out of the tourists' trap. "Bye! Thank you! Have a nice day!" she called in their direction. "Well, that was nice!" she smiled at Mark through his camera, flipping back her hair.

"That was weird!" said Roger.

"They seem kind of lost though," said Collins, suddenly serious. "I mean come on. Tourists don't usually get to the Village area because of its fine attractions."

"Yeah, that's true," agreed Mark, putting down his camera.

"I've got an idea," said Angel and started moving towards the group again. Miraculously, they stopped taking pictures. "Hello again!" she said smiling, addressing one of them. "Are you lost? Do you need help going back to your group?"

The man stared at her blankly for a second, then turned to a woman who was standing next to him, and started talking to her. He was speaking faster than the speed of light, faster than the way they were taking the pictures earlier, if that was even possible. And it definitely didn't sound like English.

"Doesn't look like they understand you," Roger said, stating the obvious.

"What is this gibberish they're speaking?" asked Maureen.

"Not sure, but according to what I remember from a course in phonetics a couple of years back, it sounds like Chinese," said Collins.

"Well, we can't just leave them," said Angel. "We just need to find a way to communicate with them."

Mark smiled. An angel, indeed. "That's a great idea, Angel, but there's only one problem," he said.

She gave him a questioning look. "What's the problem?"

"None of us speak Chinese," said Maureen.

"Not even Collins?" asked Roger in disbelief, looking at Collins, as if he was expecting him to prove Maureen wrong.

Collins shook his head. "Nope. After that course in phonetics I decided to stick with Latin. Which was a huge mistake in itself, but that's not the point now." They stood in silence for a moment, looking at the group.

"Well, I think I might know a little," said Angel.

Mark stared at her shocked. Like the rest of them, he was expecting Collins to know Chinese. Angel was definitely at the bottom of that list. Well, maybe Roger was in an even lower place, but he surely wasn't expecting Angel to know it. "Really?" he asked.

"Sure! I used to order Chinese all the time! Beef and broccoli, orange chicken- see, it can work!" she giggled. "Here, let's see if I can try it."

"Photo opportunity," said Roger.

Maureen giggled. "Definitely."

"This should be interesting," murmured Collins as Mark turned his camera back on.

There was death silence as Angel approached the tourists again. There was so much pride and confidence in the way she walked, Mark couldn't help but admire her. She turned to them for a second and winked, then turned her attention back to the man she was talking to earlier. "Shalom!" she said.

Roger smirked. Maureen started giggling again, burying her face in Collins' shirt. Collins himself tried to keep on a straight face. Mark tried to keep his camera focused, although his hands started shaking from laughing. "Umm… Angel?"

"I said, Shalom!" Angel repeated, but still, there was no comment on the tourists' side.

"Baby-" Collins tried. She turned to look at him, slightly agitated. "Nice try, but that's not Chinese."

Angel gave him a surprised look. "Oh?"

"That's Hebrew," said Mark.

"Oh…" her face fell, but only for a second. "Ah well! Do not despair! Let's improvise!" she turned to the group again and started asking them questions, using hand gestures to explain what she was saying. Then one of the men seemed to realize what she was trying to do, and he starting talking again. Here and there they could decipher some English words such as Times Square, Bus and Circle Line.

They all looked at Collins once the man stopped talking, but once again, it was Angel who put the puzzle together. "…So instead of going to their next stop at Times Square, they ended up here somehow, and now they need to find their bus to continue their sight-seeing tour!" she concluded, as if it was the most obvious thing. They just stared at her speechless.

"Nice job, Nancy Drew!" said Collins, giving her a quick kiss.

FLASH-FLASH-FLASH-FLASH-FLASH-FLASH-FLASH-

"Oh my God," laughed Maureen.

"I'll go and tell them that we'll be able to help them," said Angel. The flashes didn't cease as she made her way back to the group. "I think we-" FLASH "-figured out a way to-" FLASH "-help-" FLASH "-you out of the-" FLASH "-guys, will you stop with the-" FLASH

"I've got an idea," said Roger, halfway to Angel and the tourists.

"Where is he going?" asked Maureen.

Mark didn't know the answer, but he thought it might be wise to keep filming. He zoomed in on Roger as he approached the group that was still taking pictures of course, and snatched the camera from the man who stood closest to Angel. The man looked slightly surprised, but it helped. The flashes stopped in an instant. Angel looked relieved.

"You're my hero!" she called in Roger's direction as he made his way, with no words of course, back to his friends. "Okay! Now that we solved this little crisis let's get you out of here!" she said in her most practical tone. She didn't seem to care if they'd understand what she was saying or not because then she just started walking, but somehow they did, and they started following her. "Come on, you guys, let's take them to the Circle Line!" she called.

Although the flashes were becoming less frequent, the constant murmur of the unfamiliar language kept buzzing in their ears as they walked next to Angel, on their way out of the Alphabet City. As they finally got uptown, Angel turned to the group.

"Okay, that's it, I think you'll be okay from here. Just cross the street and keep walking straight in that direction until you'll find the tourists' buses!" she said, pointing at the direction she meant for them to follow.

"Lady. You picture with us?" asked the man with whom she started talking before, waving his camera madly.

"I think they want to take your picture," commented Mark from behind his camera.

Angel smiled. "Sure honey, no problem. Mark, will you-"

"Yeah, of course," said Mark, giving his camera to Collins. He must have taken hundreds of pictures before Angel raised her hands, as if to stop him.

"That's it! You're gonna be late for the next sight-seeing tour! Hasta la vista!"

"Hasta la vista!" they all answered in unison, then burst out laughing. Maureen and Roger exchanged confused looks. They all watched the tourists as they started crossing the street, still talking excitedly to one another.

"What sweet people," sighed Angel, then smiled. Before any of them had a chance to answer, they heard a familiar voice behind them.

"Honeybear! You guys, what are you all doing here?" Mark frowned as Joanne walked towards them, but luckily no one could see his expression behind his camera.

"It's a long story," laughed Collins.

"Hi Pookie!" said Maureen giggling, and wrapped her arms around Joanne's neck. Joanne, in return, smiled and put her hands on Maureen's ass. Roger turned to give Mark a look. Mark chose to ignore him.

"Uhh- I don't think this will be a good idea, girls, " said Collins carefully.

"Why not?" Maureen turned to give him a teasing look, then turned back and kissed Joanne.

FLASH-FLASH-FLASH-FLASH-FLASH-FLASH-FLASH-

Roger groaned. "Here we go again."

"That's why," laughed Collins.

"So what about that ice-cream?" asked Angel, wrapping one arm around Collins and the other one around Roger.

"I think we deserve some ice-cream, after all that," agreed Collins.

"I dunno, I'm kind of hungry," said Maureen thoughtfully. She smiled mischievously. "How about some Chinese?"

Collins was the first to burst out laughing, and soon they all joined him. Joanne just gave them a weird look.

"Off we go," said Mark, panning across the street and taking one last shot of the tourists before they disappeared from their sight. He smiled.

"Mark! Get your ass over here, come on!" called Roger from somewhere ahead of him.

"Yeah, Mark, let's go!" seconded Collins.

"Mark!" _Maureen…?_

"MARK!"

Mark's head snapped up, and he slowly opened his eyes. He didn't even realize he fell asleep. He turned to look at Roger, who went out of his room, slipping into his jacket. As Roger spotted him sitting there, in the exact same place he had left him the night before, his expression became concerned. Film reels were scattered all over the room, and the projector was still there from the night before. He was up most of the night sorting through his reels. "Did you get any sleep last night?" asked Roger.

Mark shook his head. "A bit. I'm fine," he said quietly.

Roger gave him a look, obviously not believing him. He glanced at his watch. "Are you ready? We should go."

"Yeah, I'm ready," replied Mark. He got up, feeling the sore muscles in his neck, and walked to his bedroom. He changed quickly and splashed some cold water on his face, then joined Roger near the door. As he took his coat from the rack, he looked at Roger. Even though he seemed to have had a good night's sleep, he was still tired-looking. The last few days' events now started taking their toll on all of them. He was worried about his best friend. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than you look."

Mark looked at him seriously. "Are you sure? About leaving?"

"Yeah. I guess. Pretty sure." They exchanged one long look. Mark couldn't believe they were actually going to… he didn't even let himself think about it. He still couldn't believe she was gone. And soon Roger would go too. His bag was already packed, his guitar sold. He was about to leave for Santa Fe the next day. It felt like everything was falling apart without them being able to change it. Like from this moment on, nothing could be the same again. Nothing could be better. It was a horrible feeling, like living inside a never-ending nightmare.

"Do you think I should have shaved or… something?" asked Roger, touching his cheek. It was like he felt uncomfortable with the silence. Like he had to break it whatsoever. And as far as Mark was concerned, anything was better than this silence.

He observed Roger for a moment, and shook his head. "No, that's fine. She always thought you were hot unshaven."

Roger smiled sadly. "She did, didn't she?" He sighed, as if he suddenly realized where they were headed. "How the hell did we get here?"

He seemed to direct his question to no one in particular, yet for Mark, the answer was so painfully clear. "Christmas," he said simply. Christmas Eve, last year.

Another short silence. Each was lost in his own memories. "Did you figure what you're gonna say?" asked Roger.

Mark looked back to where his equipment was. For the first time in days, a slow smile crept on his face. "Yeah. I think I finally did," he said, sliding the door open. "Come on. Let's go, we'll be late."

* * *

He got up and looked around him. Only a few people were sitting in the front rows, but somehow it seemed enough. Like a small family. Only those she loved the most. Those who loved her. He couldn't believe she was gone. They were all talking about her in past tense, he was about to do so as well, and it seemed so weird because she was always so… spirited. There was no past tense for her. She cherished the present. And life. He'd miss her so much.

He was standing in front of the closed coffin and took a minute. Then he just started talking. He went through enough films during the night, to revive all those memories of the year they had together. But there was this one thing. This one short day, that he couldn't get out of his head. He smiled in spite of the tears that choked him as he spoke. He took a deep breath and said, "…and then there was that time that he walked up to this group of tourists…"


End file.
